Poem by Stephen Crane

* * *

There was a great cathedral.
To solemn songs,
A white procession
Moved toward the altar.
The chief man there
Was erect, and bore himself proudly.
Yet some could see him cringe,
As in a place of danger,
Throwing frightened glances into the air,
A-start at threatening faces of the past.

1. Two or three angels
2. You tell me this is God?
3. Many red devils ran from my heart
4. The ocean said to me once
5. In the night

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